Steven Campbell - Suck My Cosmos

Why was everything so difficult?

I took a grenade out from my left armpit. I primed and dropped it at my feet.

The Central Officers only had a few seconds to scramble before the explosion.

But I had underestimated the effects of a concussion grenade between my ankles.

I was hurled through the air and knocked on my back. But more importantly, except for tatters, nearly all my clothes were blown off my body.

Grenades were strewn up the adjacent hall, rolling at high velocity away from me.

“Nertz!” I said, as I hurried after them.

I took what was left of my coat, which had survived in the back because it was protected by my chest, and I fashioned a make-shift pouch. I scooped up three nearby grenades.

So I had three grenades, an unpowered Gravitonic gun, my underwear, a collar with tie, and cuffs and cufflinks. If I had been intimidating before, now I was…odd-looking.

But you didn’t always have to scare people. Confusing them worked just as well.

I was still going after my grenades when I saw a well-formed group of armored security come into view ahead of me. There must have been ten of them and I saw at least one heavy machinegun barrel poking up to the ceiling.

I ducked back around the corner thinking about whether I should use my last grenades on them. The lights popped on my Gravitonic gun, indicating it was charged, and I shrugged.

I stepped back around the corner to see the security had double-timed forward, thinking I was retreating. To see me standing in the center of the hall, all underwear-y and calm, having just killed the Governor, gave them pause.

I turned on the Gravitonic gun, which really was a terrifying sound, and I set it to full power.

I strolled forward, letting them soak it all in. I probably looked like an incredibly ugly and well-armed exotic dancer.

“Form up,” one of the men yelled.

But I wasn’t about to let them get into positions.

I kneeled down and fired my Gravitonic gun. They must have been about thirty or forty feet away. It was like a giant invisible hand punched through the guards. The poor unfortunates in the center of their formation became projectiles. They hit the far walls or hallway intersections. Others just tumbled for what looked like a hundred feet or so.

Now my Gravitonic gun was uncharged again.

I jogged through the guards I had just scattered but the ones not directly hit were already regaining their footing.

I sighed.

“You know, sometimes the best move is to play dead,” I said.

I threw back a concussion grenade and the explosion in the narrow hallway was enough to knock the enthusiasm out of the last go-getters of the bunch.

Two grenades left.

I saw a shotgun on the ground and picked it up. It must have come from one of the guards who had rolled. It was a long barrel pump action and would be perfect for hunting birds. I tried to get my finger in it while holding my Gravitonic gun and my remaining grenades.

The shotgun discharged and the blast hit the wall next to me, which scarred a scenic mural. This probably confirmed to the guards that I was some kind of madman/dancer/art critic.

I cycled the shotgun, reloading it, and continued jogging.

I was getting hungry.

I’d been shot a few times and kicked a grenade and presumably handled poison. While it wasn’t a lot of damage—nothing like I’d experienced in the past months—I was still hungry. I wish I had eaten more at dinner. He had so much amazing food prepared.

As I was trying to remember the menu for Cliston, I got hit in the head with what felt like a meteor and I was suddenly looking at the ceiling.

I reached up groggily and felt a smashed anti-materiel round on my forehead.

And blood.

Lots of blood.

Someone was sniping me.

I put my left hand over most of my face and tried to look up from my supine position.

Just then I got shot in the jaw and my head bounced off the floor like a spring.

“Ouch!”

My teeth! My new teeth! If he shot out my teeth I’ll kill him. I swear it!

I couldn’t feel my jaw. But I knew that I was bleeding from all over my head now and had probably lost some chunks of tissue.

I also knew that tactically, lying on my back wasn’t really the best position to be in. I should probably move.

I activated both grenades and threw them past my feet. I had no idea where the enemy was, but I was in a building. It’s not like he was shooting me from space. He likely wasn’t in Hank-throwing range, but he still would see two grenades coming and a prudent man might take cover.

I hoped he was a prudent man as I rolled onto my belly and got to my hands and knees. I was in a pile of blood and my head genuinely hurt.

I was facing the wrong direction from wherever my attacker was when I looked up and saw it:

The trash chute.

I mean, it was right there. There was even a big pile of trash next to it in a scraped and damaged square metal bin. I’d have to tell Cliston that they just left their trash cans out in the open, brimming with garbage. He’d be appalled.

I’ll run for it, I reasoned. I pushed up and took off.

Without turning, I fired behind me with the shotgun, hitting the ceiling maybe five feet away and doing nothing whatsoever except proving you shouldn’t do that with a shotgun.

I waved around my uncharged Gravitonic gun to be cool and hopefully frighten my assailant.

I heard the loud choom of the sniper rifle, but I couldn’t tell where it was. It missed, thankfully.

As I neared the chute I noticed it was closed and was positioned higher than I thought. About chest height. It was also much narrower than it looked from afar.

I got to it, opened it, and was going to jump in, but without constant pressure, it just closed again. So I had to hold it open with one hand.

I let the door close and tipped over the trash bin next to me so I could stand on it.

Choom!

I got shot square in the chest. Right on the sternum!

“Ow!”

I sunk almost to my knees. I was certain it fractured something. I was getting “lucky” in that it was mostly hitting bones. If that gun hit any soft tissue it could do some serious damage. It was designed for shooting armored vehicles.

I stepped on the bin and it crunched and bent under my feet as I opened the chute door again. I dropped my guns and I was alternately trying to cover myself and climb into the chute.

I was failing pretty hard at both.

I decided to just go for it and pull myself with both hands, going headfirst.

Down I went and… clunk! My head hit the back of the chute and my shoulders got wedged inside.

My lower body was hanging outside and I was kicking my legs around to try and get some momentum.

“Crap!”

I couldn’t see anything. My arms were pressed firmly to my sides and with every kick of my legs I felt like a vise was tightening on me.

My panic really shifted into full gear as I not only feared death, I feared a really ridiculous death.

Choom!

I got shot in the right thigh as I kicked.

“Ow! Ow! Ow!”

Now I was really pumping. I twisted. I bucked. I banged my head against the chute.

Inch-by-inch I managed to get swallowed by the metal tube. Probably only my feet and ankles were outside and I could feel the door trying to close on me.

Choom!

I got shot in the ankle bone. That part that sticks out. It hurt more than my head.

I thrashed more but I wasn’t making any progress. I paused a second to think.

Using extreme concentration, and against what my adrenaline told me, I exhaled and tried to make myself as compact and calm as possible. I slipped forward ever so slightly.

Clunk.